Featherwind

Vote for Sophia

2014-05-09T12:13:00.001-07:00

I'm running in a mock election and I need your votes. You might be asking why I need your vote, and how in the heck did I wind up in politics? Well, my friends, the answer to the first question is simple, but the second is a rather interesting story. Before I answer the first question, let me answer the second.

It all started with my marriage to Danilynn on December 30 of last year. We had our legal wedding ceremony at the Salt Lake County Government Center a few blocks from our home. By that day, same-sex marriage had been legal in Utah for 10 days. It would only be legal for 7 days more. We had an outside ceremony to honking cars passing by. It was a beautiful experience for me.

Meanwhile, the attorney general of Utah had been ousted from his position for corruption in office, and there were tales of transphobic slurs that had occurred between his staff members. When we were applying for our license, a young hispanic gentleman came into the office and was sworn in just 10 feet away from us as Deputy Attorney General. He smiled at us as he passed us after his ceremony, and I said, "Hi." I wondered if he was the replacement for John Swallow, the previous attorney general, and if he would clean up the office.

more to come. stay tuned...

Her Name is Donielle

2014-01-07T06:22:00.000-08:00

Her name isn't Thing, or Tranny, or Crossdresser. Her name is Donielle. Donielle Hould. That is her preferred name. We never knew what her full legal name was, nor did it matter.

When I saw that transphobic emails were sent about a transgender Republican delegate, the first person that came to mind was Donielle--the similarities seemed to coincide too much to be another person. I mean, how many transgender women who are passionate about Republican politics get to serve as a delegate to one of the party's conventions?

Donielle's body was discovered July 2, 2011.

She moved to Utah from New York following a job opportunity here. Many people in the transgender community remember her sense of humor and her long silky, curly black hair. Her 4th of July Barbeques and Halloween parties, that she hosted in the trailer park where she lived so that transgender people had a safe place to socialize, were the talk of the community. I don't know how many times I heard, "She threw the best Halloween parties." My wife tells me that she was very driven, and had a strength about her that seemed like nobody could bring her down.

I wish I could say that I knew her, but I only really met her once, in a support group before my surgery. The month was March, 2011. She was incredibly excited about her opportunity to be a Delegate at the Utah Republican Convention in April. She was excited to be taking an active part in politics, something she loved and felt strongly about. At the time, we questioned why she was aligning with the Republican Party, but that was her choice. She had high hopes that she could get elected to office.

Something must have happened at the convention, because she started talking about staying in male mode and at the next three events where we would normally have seen her female persona, she came as male (She frequently felt that her desire to be female was an addiction that she could conquer--few rarely do).

She put her effort over the next month and a half into planning the fourth of July picnic, Sending out a reminder on May 28. We didn't hear from her again until a great sadness rocked the community.

Someone contacted me to get ahold of Deborah Dean, the founder of Engendered Species, a transgender positive group of which she was a member. They told me that someone had taken their own life and their roommate needed Deborah's help. By the time I got in touch with Deborah, she had already been to see the roommate and the body. Donielle had taken her own life with no forewarning or explanation. According to her roommate, Donielle had lost both her job and her girlfriend in the three weeks leading up to her suicide. It must have been a triple whammy coming off of such high expectations only a couple of months before. Sometimes it feels like the universe is out to get us.

As a founder of a social support group for people in transition, I felt survivor's guilt. I felt that I did not do enough to recruit her into the group, where she would have had the chance to vent whatever was on her mind. We, as a community, were at a loss as to why she went from a peak of happiness to suicide. I asked around, trying to find out what may have triggered this reaction and to see if there were any indicators that we could be more observant of in the future. I got the same response from everyone. They didn't see it coming.

Now, I hear that a transgender woman was not welcomed by certain individuals at a convention in 2012, particularly staff members of the Attorney General who was up for reelection. They didn't bother to ask her name, and sent transphobic messages to one another. One of the staff members standing next to her got a photograph of her and sent it to the other staff member, calling her a notorious crossdresser, a tranny, and a thing. That attitude most probably was picked up by that woman that day, whether they said something nasty, outing, or just had a disgusted look on their face.

As far as Donielle was concerned, she was never the same again. Less than two months later, two days before she was supposed to host the 4th of July barbeque, she was gone, dead at her own hands.

Her name is Donielle.

Two Transgender Women Marry in Utah

2014-01-04T17:09:00.001-08:00

Yup, that's us in the article holding our marriage certificate, the third article that I've written and certainly the one closest to my heart. I have a strong feeling that Danilynn and I are the first same-sex transgender couple to be legally married in Utah since Utah banned same-sex marriages in 2004. We had a wedding ceremony in late October, and when Judge Robert Shelby struck down Amendment 3 to the Utah State Constitution, a flurry of 900 couples and quite a few of my friends became legally wed that day, including a couple in Moab.

Danilynn was in town, but exhausted and sleeping in her cab after her night shift as an over-the-road truck driver. She was on a fast turn-around, and it wasn't until she was back on the road that evening that we discussed tying the knot legally for the final time. We held our bated breaths while we watched the attorney general try to get a stay on the weddings, waiting for her to be re-routed to Salt Lake City. She arrived early Saturday morning on the 28th at just after midnight, and we were married at the Salt Lake County Government Center on December 30th by 10:30 am. Outside, in our wedding dresses, passers-by honked and cheered while we exchanged our vows. Everywhere on the application I saw the word groom, I struck it out and replaced it with bride. We're still awaiting the certified copies of our license in the mail.

Before my wife left for the road on Wednesday, we consummated our marriage trucker style in the back of her cab. Eight hours of sure bliss, as her co-driver picked up the empty trailer, cleaned it out, and drove it to the dock where it was loaded up with yogurt. My wife walked me back to my car parked at the yards where we could give our goodbyes and I drove home. We call each other twice a day, and she doesn't know when she'll be back home; it's up to the dispatchers. Last I heard, they had dropped their load in Ohio and were headed back to California. Her birthday's coming up tomorrow, and we will have to delay the celebration for when she finally returns, whenever that is.

The article was published on Thursday evening and so far has 268 likes, 6 tweets, and 6 shares. The Lone Star Q, an online publication that is less than two months old, is not registered as a major news outlet, which means the national media probably hasn't seen this story. That's why I am asking everyone to help this go viral. I am hoping that by putting our story out there, it will help shift attitudes. We could have done this is stealth, but we deliberately chose not to.

The following is an excerpt from the article. If you like it, please share it in as many places as you can.

Hugs and Blessings,
Sofia Featherwind

Two Transgender Women Marry in Utah
by Sophia Jean Hawes Lutrova, aka Sofia Featherwind

We’re legally married in Utah. In Utah!

We’re two transgender women who never saw the day coming when we would be able to do this. We’re going to file our income taxes jointly this year and change our names. I will become Mrs. Sophia Jean Hawes Lutrova, and she will become Mrs. Danilynn Louise (Tingey) Lutrova.

Danilynn feels strongly about the need for marriage equality in Utah because it affects transgender people as well.

A military child, I moved to North Texas when I was 12. With the exception of four years in the Navy in San Diego, I spent the next 33 years in the Fort Worth area, trying to stay true to my Baptist upbringing. I married, had two children, and then began my transition while I was there. Eventually, painfully, I had to leave Texas for employment in first Kentucky and then Utah, leaving my wife and children behind. Our marriage of 13 years was not strong enough to survive all the change and stress.

...more

My First Experience with ATS

2013-11-09T16:09:00.001-08:00

Amy "Luna" Manderino, Founder and Artistic Director of Lunatique, became inspired to study bellydance after seeing FatChanceBellyDance perform at the Festival on the Lake in Oakland, California in 1993.

- Justine Sutton (2002). "Lunatique"

My first experience in ATS was challenging and fun. I'm about a week or two behind the Wednesday class, and having to play make-up. This is the first time that I have actually met for five hours in a single week to practice dancing. By the time I was done Thursday, my body was finally starting to feel sore, but I was riding high. I had decided that since I had the opportunity, I was going to take advantage of Mecha Ramos's Thursday night beginning class with its Salsa fusion. I paid 24 dollars at the door to dedicate myself for the whole month, and we got started.

Coming fresh from my first ATS class, I started recognizing the same moves that I had been working on in the other classes, only with a slightly different flair. It gave me a chance to practice what I had just gone over and realize that all these different styles feed from and reinforce one another. As I recognize the subtle variations between each style, I'm hoping that it helps me be more graceful. So in addition to technique, this year I am planning to focus on stamina and grace; which further encourages me to study makeup techniques. The few pages I have read and applied from Making Faces has already had a noticeable impact, particularly when my image is being picked up on camera in a conference room setting.

A year ago, I was still not interested in ATS, but after having danced with girls in ATS, and being on stage while they did their thing, I really started feeling the energy of this art form. ATS stands for American Tribal Style, invented by FatChanceBellyDance in the 80s based on the eclectic tribal belly dance culture in the 60s and 70s. From ATS, various fusions, including tribal fusion have sprung.

As I banged my zils in class to the gradual immersion, I discovered that I was only about four moves behind in the basic vocabulary, so the class must have started fresh only in the last couple of weeks. Joanna welcomed me with open arms, and I found myself enjoying dancing with her this first time. Amina had each of us come to the front of the class to demonstrate a move while we kept the 3-3 pattern going on our zils. My brain melted on the 3/4 shimmy, not seeming to be able to zil and shimmy at the same time. I am focusing on that move this week. Yesterday, after about 15 minutes, I was finally able to do the 3/4 shimmy while zilling, but only if I just stood there. Today, I'm going to try to do the same thing, but with my right leg in showgirl position. Eventually I should be able to sway, and then, finally, step while shimmying and zilling.

When Amina called me forward, she asked me to do the Basic Egyptian, "I know you can do that."

Confused, I asked, "Which one."

She proceeded to show me the Egyptian one, and as I did it, she corrected me. I have been doing a Turkish Belly Roll all this time. What she asked from me was more simple, just a swaying pelvic walk with nothing added on top. This was reinforced two hours later in Mecha's class, when part of the choreography used that same Basic Egyptian, only with a kick-release, and from the side. Mecha used to be one of Amina's students years ago, so I can guess where she got that from.

Amina was telling Joanna, in my hearing, that the class was meant to help bring people up to performance level, so they could join they performing troupe, and that the Saturday class is an accelerated one. I'm willing to stay where I am, at least for this month, so that I can start getting more confidence. My goal at this point is to just start learning the technique, build my dance vocabulary up, and have fun with the group dances. I want to see which tribal fusion moves I learn come from ATS. When I feel more comfortable rotating into the lead, then I might switch to Saturdays. Until then, I'm going to enjoy every moment I can.

A funny thing happened. I accidentally joined a group demonstration of ATS to the rest of the class. I didn't know if I was supposed to participate or not. I happened to be in position 4, and just started following along. Practically all the moves Amina was improvising were variations that she had taught us in our Wednesday evening tribal fusion performance class, especially with the last choreography. I followed along as best I could, even through the half-turn sequences, when she suddenly stopped, facing the group, gave me a high ten, and said I "did a good job faking it." It was fun! I never felt so energized as I did in that moment, contributing to something larger than myself. I've had a taste, and now I want more, so much more.

Hugs and Blessings,
Sofia

A Woman in Progress

2013-11-02T11:14:00.000-07:00

I never lost weight to fit better in the ballet world. Maybe something inside told me that I was really okay the way I was, that it was not important to be a waif in order to dance. Of course, I wouldn't know how true that was until years later. But I kept dancing. It was what I knew and loved. I assisted my teachers in classes for the younger students and kept dancing every day. My mother was continually supportive, driving me to dance school and waiting patiently while I took my classes.

- Paulette Rees-Denis (2008). Tribal Vision: A Celebration of Life Through Tribal Belly Dance

I am a woman in progress and I always will be this side of the grave--even then, my proteins will break down and the organic material will recombine, lending its support to new life--always changing, always evolving. I have been through many passages in my life, but perhaps one of the biggest was my transition. There is a truism that transition is never complete, and I agree with that. My transition from male to female only was the beginning of a lifetime of change. Challenge, and the change that goes with it forces one to push her boundaries, to step out of the comfort zone and redefine who she is as a more open, complete, and round person. Being is a verb. It means about being active about who you are, and interacting and changing with the environment around you. It means finding new elements to express about yourself and finding ways to express them.

Dancing is for me a way to continually plumb to new depths as I link my body to my soul, which in turn links to the music. I become the marionette, but I do it my way. Everything becomes one. And I take classes to expand my dance vocabulary, and to help develop my body so that it can indeed have more expression.

Because of classes shifting, I am, for the time being, having to give up my tribal fusion technique class for troupe practice with Zarandeo Dance Company. Instead of crying in my soup, I thanked the fabulous Michelle Sorenson for having had the advantage of her instruction over the last year, and looked at my options.

I am about to enter my fourth year of belly dance, and most of what I have studied in the past three years has been cabaret style. I had a request to start teaching classes at my church, while at the same time I have been getting more interested in American Tribal Style and Burlesque. I am still in three performing troupes: Azalea, for the third year; Masheed, for the second year; and Zarandeo in its first year.

It turns out that the time that the church wanted me to teach is still in conflict with my current troupe practice, so I turned to the choice I really wanted to try: American Tribal Style. I started reading a book on it as an Amazon recommendation, and then my friend Kathy loaned me a signed copy of Tribal Vision. My tribal fusion dance instructor, the fabulous Amina, told me that she has another book for me to read on ATS. Several of the members of our tribal fusion troupe are also members of the ATS troupe Azar. I have been onstage and in class while I watched them perform ATS with such dignity. The lead/follow dynamic reminds me of Swing dance and the improvisational element reminds me of my own improvisational style. The culture is also attractive in its emphasis on building each other up together instead of competing to get the best audience reaction. I understand ATS has a huge vocabulary to it, so I'll be joining Amina's beginning ATS class on Thursdays after work.

I find it amazing that I actually backed my way into tribal style. Tribal style already has a very rich history over the close to 30 years since it's inception. It has branched out and flowed into so many new forms of belly dance in that time. I began with Cabaret and Egyptian Cabaret, took a gypsy workshop, and then over the last year joined a tribal fusion troupe and started taking tribal fusion technique classes. A few months ago, I was invited to join a troupe that specializes in Ethnic Fusion, and now I am going back to the root of fusion, American Tribal Style. I will actually have a chance to learn which moves are the tribal moves that infused into tribal fusion.

I have also entered another passage of my life. Last weekend, I had a wedding in Sugar House Park in Salt Lake City. I wed my road warrior Trixie in a celebration that involved an exchange of collars BDSM style, a Cherokee blanket ceremony, and a handfasting. It was an absolutely beautiful ceremony and Bert Fontana made me look like a goddess with my hair and makeup. As a result, I am now encouraged to start exploring makeup manuals to work toward recreating a glam look. All I had to know was that it was obtainable.

Hugs and Blessings,
~Featherwind

Honoring Courageous Transgender Veterans

2013-06-04T22:18:00.004-07:00

I am dedicating my performance at the Stars and Stripes and Slinky show at the Fort Douglas Post Theater on July 6 to Kristin Beck, the retired Navy SEAL from SEAL team 6 who just came out in her memoirs. I have already written a trans-feminist piece that celebrates the forgotten warrior, i.e., women warriors, including trans women warriors, and am in the process of preparing to perform it monologue style at this benefit, which is a USO-themed burlesque show with the benefits going to area veteran's organizations. In a way, it is a cut at Don't Ask Don't Tell. In the poem I am going to deliver, I close with a rendition of a true story of a transgender woman who died on the battle field.

I am a Navy intersex transsexual veteran who served on the USS Lynde McCormick (DDG-8) and USS Mahlon S. Tisdale (FFG-27) from 1989 to 1993 during Operation Desert Storm as a Torpedoman's Mate.

I have been doing public performances since 2008, early in my transition, when I had the opportunity to do and the desire to perform They Beat The Girl Out of My Boy...Or So They Tried (as part of the Vagina Monologues) at Casa Manana in Fort Worth in front of hundreds. I performed in the Vagina Monologues twice more here in Salt Lake City at the University of Utah in 2011 and 2012.

I am also a performing belly dancer, and have been doing solos for almost three years, almost as long as I have been studying the art of belly dancing, and performing in several troupes. It was via the belly dance community that I got my first invite to deliver some of my poetry at a burlesque show in February of last year. I decided to do a piece from the book that I published because it was the closest piece that I had that fit the theme. It was also a risk for me, because I was essentially outing myself to a whole community in which I felt loved. I left the audience crying.

I was asked to perform again this last February, in which I did a piece of trans-feminist slam entitled Certain Other Inalienable Rights, finding the packed audience very responsive. I had just had voice surgery and was surprised when I came from behind the curtain to have my first-ever standing ovation. As a result, I was asked to perform again this July at the Fort Douglas Post Theater for veterans.

When I saw the breaking article on Kristin Beck, I knew I had to dedicate this performance to her courage above and beyond the call of duty.

Hugs and Blessings,
Sofia

Washed Out at the Renaissance Faire

2013-05-28T06:17:00.002-07:00

The weekend before last turned out to be a complete washout. I drove from Taylorsville, Utah, through the rain and overcast skies up to Marriot-Slatersville, Utah, with a bag full of snacks, my sword, and my portable jam box, dressed in gypsy garb.

When I got to the site, there weren't that many people present for a Saturday morning at 10:00. I parked near tha gate on the gravel, with the warning that the mud was so bad that parking anywhere else would be impossible to get out. The sand of the farm, mixed with steady rain had created a sloggy mess.

Regardless, I slogged my all the way back to the stage where were to perform. The staff had laid bark on the trail to aid in footing, but it ran out pretty quickly. As I slid and slipped my way back with all my gear, I eventually had to remove my flip flops because they were so full of muck and proceed barefoot. By the time I got to my destination, one of my friends came out and told me that they were probably not going to open that day. On our way back to the gate, I lost one flip flop and a really good book. I called my troupe members and gave them the sad news.

On Saturday morning, I drove out to Tooele to do a benefit performance at a nursing home that was adjoined to Asylum 49, a reputedly haunted hospital. My bra busted before I could even get out of the car. A couple of large safety pins later, I was dancing with my sword for the senior citizens of Toole, who clapped enthusiastically as I performed. I was able to also throw in the new moves I had been working on last week, and closed with a kiss and sword flourish.

When we took the tour, I felt a strong presence at the end of a long, dark hallway, and I wasn't the only one. There is also supposed to be a child ghost present on the site, but my impression is that he is very shy, as I didn't feel a strong presence in the area set aside for him.

My next scheduled performance is at Taylorsville Dayzz in Taylorsville, Utah, just south of the Taylorsville Recreation Center on Friday, June 28. I will will be dancing with the modern fusion troupe Masheed, and there is a possibility that I may be doing my sword solo as well.

Hugs and Blessings,Sofia

The Forgotten Warrior

2013-04-03T16:02:00.002-07:00

She plies the skies

For enemy eyes

Always alert

Always ready.

Her Falcon's talons

Ready to strike

At mach 2.

Warrior princess

She is the almost

Forgotten warrior.

History

Not her story

Has tried to erase

The lives of the great female knights.

She joins the ranks

Marches stride in stride

With sisters who have gone before.

Like Queen Tamar,

Zenobia and her daughters,

Who held the mighty Romans at bay.

Joan D'Arc

and Ahhotep,

Warrior Queen of the Nile.

Fu Hao

The priestess general.

And the cunning Artemisia.

And many more,

Who passed the sword

Like a gift from Ishtar,

Of Love and war,

Or from Athena

Athens Protector,

Kali,

The Creator and destroyer of worlds.

Worlds without end,

Worlds full of men,
Killing one another.

It is only in the divine feminine warrior,
That we find the mixed blessings,
Of love and strength,
Creation and destruction.

Her fierce nature
Roots both her passion
And her protection.

She is channeled,
To another place,
Another time,
Her passion,
Love,
Strength,
Ferocity,
Are called upon,
By the nature of another woman,
Thousands of miles from home.

Don't ask
Don't tell.

Out in the jungle

A warrior cries,

Struck down in his prime,

By bullets strafing in wild lines.

He holds hopelessly to his guts

Now worthless.

The pain subsiding,

The endorphins lulling him into a

warm

wet
sleep.

The pain in his mind

About to also be dispensed,

The rapid crunching of the foliage

Approaching,

Disturbing sweet impending darkness.

It's too late,

He knows,

Whether friend or foe.

He looks up into the tear-stricken eyes

Of a friend.

“Oh my God,”

His friend cries.

“You'll be okay.

Medic! Stat!”

And gathers the fallen warrior in his arms.

“Shhhh.

It's too late for me.

But please one thing before I die.”

“Anything, dear friend of mine.”

“Call me Judy one more time.”

A Cyst

2013-03-21T08:49:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty sure it's a cyst. I found it on the underwire line when I took my bra off yesterday evening. It's a hard lump just in front of the armpit. I tried massaging it, hoping it was just a clump of tissue, but it's still there.

The worst part is that I have no insurance now. No job, no insurance. I guess I really fucked that up. That means if I go to have it checked out that it's going to be costly, a cost that I can't necessarily afford. I've already been on several interviews and been turned down by all but one company. I had the final interview with them last week and am waiting for their final decision this week. I have 2 phone screens today and an in-person for Tuesday with 3 other companies. At least, as long as I'm interviewing the other companies know that someone else may want me, which puts the 911 on the interview process.

What a way to go this would be. Killed by a cyst that became tumorous and wasn't removed all because I raised my voice one time and let an executive know another that his behavior was making me feel defensive. Stressed to death.

I have the option of tapping into my HSA to pay for the doctor, mammogram, draining. I don't have too terribly much in my 401k and IRA. Maybe I could plunder that.

I remember the days of waiting for my wife to leave, so I could secretly try on her bra. I remember sneaking herbal breast products and later starting hormone therapy. I remember not being able to wait until I got home to wear a bra.

I remember wearing a bra under my work clothes because it felt good, and later having to wear a bra because going without made my nipples hurt. I remember getting a natural breast augmentation done to be more proportionate.

Lately, I've been having to take my bra off to sleep, and now, I will have to forgo the underwire bra in favor of camisoles and jogging bras.

Sometimes life comes full circle.

Interview Questions

2013-03-16T10:02:00.002-07:00

I am finding that I am starting to enjoy a certain part of interviewing and that's the point when I get to ask the questions. I have stock questions that give me insight into the company, the culture, the processes and the people. 4 to 5 questions is all it takes. I am also to take that insight and use it to drive my Q/A time at some follow-up interviews, which I did for the first time yesterday. I'm kind of wishing that I had discovered this technique some time ago. I also saw how well people who already worked together got to know each other better when I ask these questions to a group. I highly suggest taking the time to make your own stock list of lines of questioning. As an example here's mine, especially when I'm stumped for more specific questions:

1. What's your favorite part about working at XYZ, inc?

2. If you could change one thing, what would it be?

3 (For the technical interview). What new technologies have you introduced? What is the process of introduction? And did the technologies meet your expectations?

4. (For the managerial interview). If I were to be/progress into management, are there good mentors available? Do you have a good mentoring process?

5. (For the follow-up) This is a good time to drill down on things raised in previous interviews as the interviewer's job title dictates.

6. What recent challenges are you facing today and going forward?

7. Tell me about your first assignment/how you came to work for XYZ, inc?

Two questions I hate to hear are:

1. Where do you see yourself 1, 3, 5 years from now?

I hate this question because I'm a dynamic individual, and the answer, whether or not you honestly truly feel it, can jeopardize the interview. Do you have too much ambition or not enough? Ambition is ambition, sometimes requires encouragement, and sometimes requires tempering. The point is no one knows where they're going to be, and it makes them less agile. Maybe I should answer with a question of my own from now on: "I'm not sure. Are there specific opportunities that I should be considering at those intervals?"

2. What do you see as your greatest weakness?

This is a horrible question. Nobody is going to be completely forthcoming when they answer this question, because they risk getting the job. Instead, the candidate has to pick something that they are working on already that isn't their greatest weakness; or they have to pick a strength and show the negative side, thereby implying the actual strength. The last time I was asked this question, I was talking about my strength and accidentally started talking about how it became a weakness as a manager; to which I found I triggered commiseration from my interviewer.

Getting to know the people, culture, and processes before you start working someplace is vital. And even if you don't get the job, you can digest all that experience into secondary wisdom that you can take with you when you finally do land a job. This is really pertinent if you plan to lead or manage at any level.

The Long Letter

2013-02-18T08:44:00.004-08:00

I was asked to send my first counselor a long letter about what's been going on with my life and what TGSSN is.

It was great to hear from her again. TGSSN (Transcenders Global Social Support Network) is a support community that is truly global and present on FaceBook. It sprang into existence because of a glaring hole in support services. While there are many support groups that are aimed at the Transgender community, they tend to support the needs of the majority of its members who fall under the larger umbrella. A minority of individuals, those who transition from one gender to another, often can't find a listening ear or a mentor for their journey, which extends in time and space from the pre-transition days to the post-transition years. It is a place where people can support themselves by supporting one another, where someone doesn't have to be left alone with destructive emotions and can find a sympathetic air. It is also a place where information related to transitioning can be found. Because of this, the group is open to anyone who is at any stage of a gender transition, pre-, during, and post-; supportive family members; and community support givers. The latter is why I invited her to join.

Transcenders emerged from a weekly coffee meeting I was hosting in Louisville, Kentucky. I started it in parallel to one that TransKentucky was doing in Lexington. The drive between the two cities was about an hour and a half, which precluded most men and women in Louisville from attending. We discussed what kind of support services were missing on the spectrum in the area and decided that we saw that there was no mentoring or low-cost group therapy available. I had been thinking long and hard about how to structure a support network, had proposed ideas to Sienna and TransKentucky, and was about to become the officer in charge of implementing my idea at TransKentucky. The sitting president then went through a burn-out crisis because she was handling everything else alone. Meanwhile, the coffee group decided to band around the evolved idea of a support network. The core idea that had finally emerged was that each person should exchange contact information with at least two others and form a pledge of support, very similar to the buddy system in AA. I felt that single pairing was too weak because people in the trans community did sometimes disappear off the face of the earth, and that would leave someone with no one to rely on if they too crumbled. One of the major reasons for the support is suicide prevention. When I was offered a job in Utah, no one was strong enough to take over Transcenders in Louisville, and so I turned to FaceBook.

On FaceBook, I created the the new group, added the current members from the Yahoo Group, as well as people who were mentors to me. I added everyone who I felt met the criteria for the new group, and spelled out the guiding priniciples. Occasionally, I sought out new people to join who added a bit more diversity, and I added people I met in Thailand. The group truly is global. No matter what time of day that someone is struggling, there is someone else awake and pledged to be supportive in their time of need. I can't imagine how many suicides this has prevented or the number of times someone was able to guide another member to a better place. Most of the work goes on behind the scenes as friendships are formed. I know, because I am friends with some of these people and have witnessed some of their conversations. It truly is a beautiful thing to see someone unafraid to share when they are struggling and sometimes two or three people leap in to provide a supportive ear and feedback.

That's TGSSN, and I am proud of the membership there.

On Saturday, I got my first standing ovation--at a burlesque show. I was more worried that my voice would give out, because I had vocal chord tuning two weeks previously. I had been going through a process where I was increasingly being mis-gendered over the phone and sometimes double-gendered in public. I heard my voice on a recording, and I couldn't stand it anymore. So I had my vocal chords blistered with a laser on January 31, and over the following 6 weeks, my voice is supposed to tighten up as the scar tissue tightens, to about 1 note higher, which takes me away from the danger zone. The presurgical evaluation revealed a node on each vocal chord, which accounted for my voice suddenly getting tired and dropping. People have noted that my voice definitely sounds more feminine now--when I have it, and when it's been warmed up.

I met the burlesque dancers through the belly dance community. Anna, who runs the burlesque troupe, was best friends with another intersex transsexual belly dancer for many years before Candy took her life about 6 or 7 years ago. As a result, Anna friended me quickly when we met, and has been somewhat protective of me from some of the harsher elements in the community as she sees it. I didn't dance at this event. I recited a (trans) feminist slam poem I wrote in Kentucky. Last year, Jodi, one of the dancers in the troupe, organized a fund raiser for sanitation conditions in India, and one of her friends noticed that I was a poet. The event was Goddess-themed, so I recited my poem, "God's Compassion," which was a very outing poem, detailing my last struggle with my decision to transition. I was very nervous that night, afraid of how people would treat me once they found out I was once male. They cried, and Anna shouted out, "I love you, Sophie." And everyone still treats me like the woman that I am.

My experience with the Vagina Monologues (which I've done three times now), has helped me in presenting poetry in a very evocative manner. So did a few of the open mics that I did. Everyone loved the poem I did last year, that they asked me to do another presentation, this time for the burlesque show, with the proceeds going to the YWCA Women's Shelter. The women's shelter in Louisville had come to my aid in the past, so I knew I couldn't decline the request. I knew exactly which poem I wanted to do, even though it was risky and set about memorizing "Certain Other Inalienable Rights." I knew it might alienate the men in the audience, but it was a woman-empowering piece. When I paused to drive home a point, they audience responded, and oh, how they responded! I paced the stage in my red cocktail dress, black boa, garter belt, thigh highs, and cat-o-8-tails (one tail had broken off Friday night). And when I spoke, they shouted out affirmations! I graciously conceded them the space and the energy built between them and me. I blew a final kiss as the curtains closed, and couldn't make out what was being said in front of the curtains as I exited the stage. People ran up to me, gave me a hug, and said, "You got a standing ovation!" I still find it hard to believe and am walking on air. I have one more venue where I plan to audition the piece, and it's a place where models meet sketch artists.

I have started my third year of belly dancing. I am dancing in two troupes now. One is Egyptian Cabaret and the other is Tribal Fusion. Both troupes are performing at Spring Fest on March 2nd, and I'm still trying to keep a sword on my head during one of the two choreographies. I have been soloing for almost two years, and, yes, my new solo has a sword on my head :) I also am in the middle of co-teaching a workshop to women from my church (I only have to worry about the music selection, warm up and cool down. My partner came up with the choreography and lesson). I'm thinking about maybe extending some Sunday lessons (to friends first). My goal is to be ready to enter at least one belly dance contest this time next year. I was so happy to see that someone in India had seen one of my videos and rated it 5 stars!

Speaking of which, I took the opportunity to do a spot in a handwashing video that was aired in North Indian villages by Jodi and the PlusOne India campaign. I learned how to say, "I wash my hands with soap because I am a smart person," in Hindi, and we shot my scene in a laboratory with me in a lab coat. I also did a recruiting video for my work to hire Java Developers, which has over 1500 views to date. I am coming to learn that I am a very memorable person, and I am constantly approached by people who have seen me perform or who have spoken with me.

I was promoted last September to Development Lead at my company. I have been working one of the core strategic projects for just over a year now. Eventually, I may apply for a director position, but I have enough challenges to keep me on my toes now.

I am really excited and anxious about the position that I was offered at TEA (Transgender Education Advocates) of Utah. They want me to be their first Volunteer Coordinator because of my warm and welcoming personality. I don't know if this is a board position or not; it is certainly not a voting one, and that's okay with me. It's certainly a cause I strongly believe in.

They probably inferred the "warm and welcoming personality" from my current role as the Welcoming Committee Chair at South Valley Unitarian Universalist Association, which I've held for about a year and a half. When I made a speech on Welcoming from the pulpit one Sunday, it didn't take them long to ask me to take over the role, since I had done something very similar at First Unitarian of Louisville. Only now, I have 5th Sunday committee meetings on how to make our church more welcoming. So now I'm tasked with creating a Radical Greeter workshop.

In my personal life, things have finally cooled to a loving friendship with my ex. It's been about 2 years, and I don't think we blame each other for anything anymore.

Another contemplation of suicide brought another person into my life, as she also latched onto me and followed me home one night. She had been working on me with a steady interest for over a year. She stayed with me until she had to go back to her trucking school and I see her when she comes through town. She is part of my inner emotional circle, and I am finally accepting the fact that I am polyamorous, that there's no shame in it, and I am learning bit by bit how I need to structure my world. My trucker girlfriend, who was already part of a poly family, joined anothe lover and me as part of a core family for the moment. The other lover has more monogamistic leanings and will probably move on when she finds someone that satisfies that need for her. While Da fulfills my kinky needs, and S fulfills physical companionship needs, L (who I've only dated three times since December), satisfies my emotional bonding needs. L, though, enjoys being single. I love all three. Then in my next circle, are De, A, and J. De's really sweet and supportive, goes to practically all my events, but because I feel she was keeping something secret from a long-term partner, we no longer share "benefits." A is new and I have only been around her three times, but we had an instant connection. I tried to reconnect with her for months after we first met. I think J and I are mostly friends at this point, as I saw her in the arms of another friend at church, and am very happy for her. Then comes the circle of acquaintances, with hints of something more, playfulness and flirtation.

For a while, I thought I needed a lifetime partner that satisfied all my needs, then I thought I needed a primary partner with open bounds, but now I know it is just a want; because all my needs are met when I open my eyes. I am well and truly loved. I am blessed that almost everyone who comes to know me loves me, and I them. What I once thought was a curse is indeed a blessing. I would still someday love to have a primary partner, especially as I get older.

Is this long enough?

Hugs,
Sophia

New Year New Goals

2012-12-27T16:37:00.002-08:00

I want to amend this year's belly dance goals. Not only do I want to work on form, technique, and flexibility, I want to be confident that starting in January 2014, that I'll be good enough to compete in at least one intermediate-level dance competition and kick butt. And with the help of Michelle, Jamie, and Amina, I see that as a real possibility. Not to mention what I've so far learned from Kelsey, Mecha, Thia, Kitty, and the fabulous workshops I've attended and plan to attend have contributed greatly.

The strengths I believe I bring to belly dancing, so far, are

a desire to learn new techniques and props,
exploring what I can do with those techniques and inventing new moves,
a love of the audience,
energy in form, and
the capability to improvise.

I need to start doing the following:

Work through my existing belly dance videos, focusing on technique and form,
Find and study belly dance videos of artists I would love to emulate,
Carve out improvisational time to randomly selected music,
Three times weekly instruction: 2 troupes and one technique, and
Find some flexibility training and add it and meditation to my private practice.

The virus better give up soon, because starting tonight I am making Thursdays BD DVD night. I have had a video for a year and a half titled Rough Guide to Belly Dance (2nd Edition). She has some flexibility as well as technique on the video. Well, tonight, Mama's going to get busy and start dedicating an hour every Thursday to this DVD until I complete it. I will be flushing out the rest of my schedule on a day by day basis, but for now, it's going to be:

Monday: Intermediate/Advanced technique class with Michelle Sorenson
Tuesday: Azalea performance troupe with Mayada.
Wednesday: Fusion choreography troupe with Amina
Thursday: BD DVD night, starting with Rough Guide to Belly Dance (2nd Edition).

Tomorrow, I'll probably start hunting down the first belly dance performance on line that I would love to emulate.

Hugs and Blessings,
Sofia

Belly Dance Decision

2012-12-09T12:11:00.002-08:00

When I was between 2 and 4, we lived in Ismir, Turkey. My father was in the Air Force and he had recently returned from his tour of duty in Thailand. It was the first foreign country I had traveled to, having moved to New Mexico from Maine, shortly after I was born.

The air was rich with culture. You could walk down the cobblestone streets and go from radio to radio playing music, overlapping in cacophony as you left the zone of one person and entered the zone of another.

In the evenings, a man would climb one of the minarets and chant out the call to prayer. The whole scene was both overwhelming to the senses and mesmerizing. We stayed in one of the hotels when we first moved to the city.

The hotel provided evening entertainment by way of belly dancers, young women who were working for their dowry. One of the women was so fluid, graceful and flexible, it was like watching the most beautiful serpent dance. She also was able to balance a candelabra on her belly. She must have noticed my studied gaze, because she started asking my mother if she could take me up to her room while she practiced.

I vaguely remember a room filled with rugs and knick knacks, and on the coffee table in front of the divan where I sat was a silver platter with Turkish pastries. I couldn't get enough of her. Something in me craved to move like she did, becoming at one with the music. When I asked my mother later if I danced in a more male or female style when I was little, she said, mysteriously, "You just got it."

We left Turkey when I was 4 and moved to Germany, where I would spend my next 4 years. Even though Germany had good traditional music, which we discovered while we were touring, it didn't seem to call my soul to dance; but the food was great.

And so, dance slipped out of my life until I was 16 in Texas and panicking over my prom. My Mom, who had taken the opportunity with my Aunt and our next door neighbor to study belly dancing while we lived in Michigan, showed me some couples steps and encouraged me to dance without holding hands, as was now becoming vogue.

And so dance awakened was again in me, and with my love of music, I couldn't get enough, although I was afraid of formalized dance instruction and choreography for the next 26 years. I married at 28, and the dancing became very subdued. My soul was crying out for more, until we separated and I moved to Kentucky. There, a woman I met invited me to a free swing dance lesson. Over the next 10 months, I worked my way into twice a week lessons and was hanging out with the swing dance crowd. Before I left Kentucky to pursue a job in Utah, another friend was selling her red baladi belly dance skirt, and I took the opportunity to buy it for her half of what it's actually worth.

I met my new best friend Robin where I now work when I first started working there. I went to an event at my church where she was selling some of her photos. On the next table over was a coin hip scarf in the same color as my skirt. It didn't take much longer until I was 20 dollars lighter in my wallet and the proud owner of the beautiful scarf.

At work the next day, I mentioned my find to a friend in the break room, and she showed me the list in her hand of available continuing education fitness classes. At the top of the list was a Belly Dance Fundamentals class. She, I, and 4 other girls signed up for the class. When I saw the syllabus on the first day of class, I almost freaked out: we were expected to learn a choreography in the last few weeks of class.

While the class continued on, my instructor invited me to various Belly Dance shows, and one of those was the day long Spring Fest, hosted by Thia. There, my body couldn't stop moving to the music, and I met Kitty Screwfoot, and a few people that would ultimately become my teachers. Kitty is now my mentor, and my first instructor wound up taking me private.

While I was at Spring Fest, I found this red sequined top that matched my skirt and hip scarf for only 50 dollars. Later I returned to the same merchant and committed myself to belly dancing by purchasing a beautiful brown costume that came with a bra, belt, skirt and veil for 250 dollars. It was a tough decision to make, but I haven't regretted it.

Worlds Apart

2012-11-25T17:34:00.002-08:00

We all travel this universe,
Content to our own worlds,
Wondering why
We never meet
Someone new
Someone who
Will rock our world apart.

How can we meet
Someone who've
We've never met
When we stay within
Our own bubbles?

The answer lies
Where worlds collide
Crossing the cosmic gap.

Love does not wait to be found
It is a pulsating energy
Invading the worlds that surround.
A bold adventuress
Making her presence known
Lighting up a room
Leaving behind a dance
To the rhythms of the
Strange, exotic place.

Ecstasy is born
Where the exotic meet
And overlap
Pulsing and feeding one to the other.

If you have not yet found love
In your own world
Seek another
Or make it larger.

Insurance and Mammograms

2012-05-06T16:32:00.001-07:00

This week a New Jersey transgender woman, finally convinced Aetna to cover her mammogram after two years of rejections. I saw someone post that this sense of gender identity being separate from sex has only been with us for 40 years.

Here I must disagree with them. Magnus Hirschfeld encountered transgender people who knew their gender identity was separate from their physical sex and could not change how they felt. The Nazi's destroyed his offices, burning them to the ground, and added his patients to their list of undesirables. It was not just jews who were sent to concentration camps.

Before Hirschfield, at the turn of the last century, some the world's first sociologists visited the Zuni tribe to discover that 1 in 300 people lived in the gender role not consistent with their anatomy, a rate that is fairly universally consistent even today. Our budding nation pretty much wiped the Zuni out.

The Zuni were not the only Native Americans who had trans people living in their midst. The early explorers from Europe found them honored in the tribes under such appellations as the Berdache. The Spanish found their existence against their religion and proceeded to wipe them out, mutilating them before exterminating them. The whole Native American culture was almost completely exterminated and the remainder forced to live under other people's religions. Those who have returned to the old ways, recognize the two-spirit among them and honor them today.

There were Indo-European priestesses who drank the urine of pregnant mares in order to feel more at home in their own bodies.

It's only in the last 40 years that the rate of massacre has dropped off to allow some trans people to live.

Science is showing, and has shown that trans-identified people have a different brain structure than cis-identified people; in fact, their brain aligns more with the gender they claim to be than otherwise. The impact on the brain is that the neural circuity at birth is pre-wired to develop as the gender that does not reflect the genitals they carry. In addition, until hormone treatment is started, the presence of testosterone on a female mind and the presence of estrogen on a male mind cause severe emotional crises, from chronic anxiety to chronic depression. Hormone treatment actually make the person more productive in society. And because estrogen develops breast tissue, those who are on it will grow breasts, which will need care.

We are complex organisms. Even the the birth process is complex. A strange phenotype or external hormones added; a genetic failure or mutation; there are literally hundreds, if not thousands of ways that a child can be born intersex; and if the hormone levels are not right or a testicle doesn't work, or a gland doesn't work, or the hormone receptors don't work; you wind up with someone who's brain structure doesn't match the body they're born in.

I ought to know. I am an undiagnosed intersex woman. In 1974, the military doctors sent me to a specialist to correct a dilated urinary bladder and perform a minor hypospadias repair. I also had an undescended testicle that would cause me severe abdominal pain on an almost monthly basis before making its appearance each and every month. I also had signs that I had some form of endometrial tissue at that age, and through the rest of my life, even though I didn't understand the implications.

I felt wrong in my body, and I knew from a tender age that I expected female genitalia. I also had difficulty hanging with boys and felt absolutely comfortable with the girls. Because I had no idea on how to get help, I lived under the testosterone-induced chronic anxiety until I was in my early 40s and had a wife and two children, both girls. What I saw as the problem would not go away.

I started counseling and, seeing no other way to inner peace, began a trial with hormone therapy. While I lost my family as a result, it quite literally saved my life. The anxiety had gone on for so long that I was quite suicidal.

Everything gradually improved in my life as I embraced who I was instead of fighting it. Eventually I had surgery, and thinking that it might be covered, I filed a claim. At that point, practically all my care was denied, even the exploration into my intersex condition to verify it was not cancerous. Eventually, during the appeal process, everything but the surgery itself was covered.

Until yesterday, when I received an explanation of benefits that my mammogram, the mammogram that the insurance company themselves called me to take, was denied. So it is very obvious that if I had kept quiet about my surgery, my mammogram would have been covered. Instead, they seek to punish me, and like Ms. Scott, I am going to fight them every step of the way for such prejudicial treatment.

Another person writes that doctors can't create women, that transwomen are brainwashed into surgery and that they regret being mutilated by them, because this person listened to a group of women supposedly put together on the Howard Stern Show.

If you believe that, I recommend that you look up the WPATH Standards of Care. Also section 802 of DSM IV. While you're at it, check out True Selves by Midred Brown, et al. You don't want to base your knowledge on an interview on the Howard Stern show. Surely you know that he self-identifies as a shock-jock.

I had to get several letters of approval before I had surgery, and it took me four years. The first letter was for hormone treatment. Even though I was diagnosed in 6 weeks with gender identity disorder, it took me a year before I started HRT. Why? Because, we wanted to exhaust other alternatives, like living as a cross-dresser, because I was married. The second and third letters came from my next therapist, and endocrinologist, who concurred that I had been on hormone treatment for two years and indeed, would benefit from the surgery. I had had to change therapists, because I moved to another state, thanks to losing my job in a round of layoffs. I had been living full-time outside of work for 6 months and full-time female for 4 months before I had that letter. It was three years since I walked into the counselor, with me driving my own transition. My early counselor had only provided the resources and the pros and cons of the choices I could make. No one tried to convince me to get surgery. Once I was comfortable with who I was, I didn't need them to.

It cost me 16,000 dollars to have surgery in Thailand with a world-renowned surgeon and there was a 10 month waiting list. This doctor requires 2 years of hormone treatment and 1 year of living as full-time female before he would operate. I had to get another letter from my endocrinologist for the gender marker on my passport, and when I got to Thailand, I was given another psychological evaluation before the would operate. That was almost exactly a year ago. I don't consider myself mutilated, nor do the people I met in Thailand that I keep in touch with or any of the post-op women that I have met in Fort Worth, Dallas, Louisville, Lexington or Salt Lake City.

For a sample like Howard Stern put together, it was obviously not drawn at random, and can therefore not be used to infer a statistical rule. There are a lot of substandard doctors out there, and many transwomen cannot afford one that's worth his salt, thanks to insurance not covering and people not employing. Those women I do know that have some complaint don't regret having the surgery, they regret having the wrong surgeon do it. They are still happier as women than they have ever been as men.

Hugs and Blessings,
Sofia

Hope to see you at the Utah Rennaissance Faire and Festival on the 19th. I'm unveiling a new solo with veils and zils.

Advocacy

2012-04-01T22:13:00.001-07:00

Even in this early stage of our conversation, I am struck again by why I have repeatedly returned to Joyce's books for guidance. She gives me courage. She is honest and open, not afraid to admit her insecurities, and it is evident by her "spiritual success" that she has not been held back by them.

-- Janice Lynn Lundy, Your Truest Self: Embracing the Woman You Are Meant to Be

Somehow, my compassion has been leading me to be an advocate. I follow my heart and act before I can even think whether I should be an advocate or not. It is a maternal instinct to protect the members of my group and my friends. It is deeply seated in compassion. I don't want the suffering.

Just a few days ago, I heard the DJ on a local radio station trying to refer to Jenna Talackova, the Miss Universe contestant who was ejected from the competition because she was a post-operative transsexual woman, in terms bordering on dehumanizing. I couldn't believe I was hearing that in Salt Lake City, where there has been a lot of education. Apparently, not enough. I was calling the radio station before I could think not to, and correcting the DJ. I found out later that the call was live.

A transsexual woman has a lot to overcome to be able to compete in a beauty pageant with cis-gendered women. If she's able to overcome the effects that testosterone unwillingly made to her body and is able to catch up and compete in physically feminine areas, including manners, grace and deportment--if she is able to overcome, let alone compete--it is a massive accomplishment and she should be allowed to compete.

I went to an intersex support group on Friday, and while I was there I encountered an article about mistreatment by the Utah Driver's License Division. When I read the article, I was immediately angered that someone I knew was treated this way. Krystal is a wonderful woman, and when the driver's license division worked to progressively remove her female identity, it was nothing short of abuse, grounded in ill-informed cultural mores. She walked, rather that subject herself to further humiliation, and I am proud of her decision. This tactic by the DLD is not new, as they did the same thing in Draper last year. They seem to not have learned.

The solution is simple, because the problem is readily apparent. The policy about misrepresentation is written in such an ambiguous way that it is applied subjectively instead of objectively. Not to mention, the staff needs to be educated that by forcing a person's identity to match their preconceived ideas of what someone with that gender marker would look like is setting them up for discrimination and abuse at the hands of anyone who reads the ID, especially law enforcement, which is a know occupation of choice for psychopaths. The one thing worse than a jerk is a jerk with a gun and a badge of authority to use it.

Moreover, it makes it more difficult for a person to live full time for a year in their target gender, if their license states the contrary. They will not match their public ID and that will cast more suspicion on them. Living full-time for a year is a requirement to getting surgery, which itself is a requirement to get some birth certificates amended with the new gender marker, which Utah requires before they will change the marker on the driver's license. The only out is via a U.S Passport, because federal ID trumps local and state ID.

The solution is to add a guideline that states that a person's gender expression shall not be construed as a misrepresentation of gender identity. And then to educate the staff in sensitivity and compassion.

As for me, I am ready to do whatever it takes to get the policy amended.

Hugs and God Bless,
Sofia

Petition Started

2012-02-10T22:50:00.000-08:00

SelectHealth has an exclusion in their insurance plans that is over 20 years old that prohibits coverage of "transsexual surgery," or any complications with regards to those procedures.

They were presented with the following facts, and asked why the exclusion exists in the first place. They did not provide that answer, only going on to state that the exclusion (which was cleverly concealed in a mental health rider at the back of the employee guide behind a blank page behind the glossary) must be upheld because it's there.

The American Medical Association passed resolution 122, which specifies that Gender Reassignment Surgery is neither cosmetic nor experimental. In Tax Court vs. O'Dhonobain, the federal tax board came to the same conclusion. Also, it's been proven that given the rate of incidence, new federal legislation and the actual cost of the procedure, the cost is itself negligible.

The procedure is a reconstructive one in which all functionality is maintained and has been so for over 10 years. The World Professional Association for Transgender Health has a detailed standards of care for optimizing safe transition between genders.

SelectHealth was provided with specific instances of the self-mutilation, medical issues and suicide that happen when an individual can't afford surgery

The World Health Organization lists full medical transition as a cure for gender identity disorder. The Appeals Board was asked, "What is the cost of a human life?" They were challenged to determine the reasons the exclusions were created in the first place. They could not provide, nor did they seek to find an answer.

As the American Medical Association stated, the refusal to provide life-saving treatment for pennies on the dollar, given significant medical information and progress over the last 10 years that gender identity disorder is a congenital defect that sometimes requires full medical transition, is blatantly discriminatory.

Is it the right of a a medical insurance corporation to disregard medical progress in order to justify it's discrimination?

What's even worse is that SelectHealth does have a rider to drop the exclusion against "transsexual surgery," but they don't publicize it and they don't offer it to the Companies covered. They must magically know about the hidden exclusion, that there's a rider to drop the exclusion and that they can simply ask for it.

In a recent hearing, the committee stated in their denial letter, "The Committee understands your request but determined that the services are specifically excluded by the Plan. We regret this result could not be more favorable, but the Committee has a fiduciary obligation to consistently administer the Plan." Signed by Thomas B. Morgan, Chairman of the Board.

You can sign the petition here.

Appeals Committee

2012-01-25T07:06:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I contacted a legal organization to bring teeth and claws into my case with Select Health.

I live in Taylorsville, Utah, a community on the outskirts of Salt Lake City. My healthcare plan is Select Health Plus PPO + HSA, and it is offered through my employer. On Monday, I met with the Appeals Committee for my third-level and final internal appeal.

The case I made was based on the following bullet points:

· Why Select Health needs to drop the exclusions against Gender Reassignment and treat my policy as if they never existed:

1. A transgender woman was sentenced to 30 years in prison for robbing banks to be able to afford gender reassignment surgery. After she was incarcerated, she attempted to remove her penis with a knife. Attempts like this are more costly in medical treatment than actually supporting gender reassignment surgery, and are very common.

2. A friend of mine changed her insurance company from Select Health to Blue Cross Blue Shield in January of this year. Blue Cross Blue Shield has promised to pay $19,000 dollars of her gender reassignment surgery. Given her delight, she'll probably be their customer for life.

3. Google in California now covers Gender Reassignment Surgery in their insurance policy.

4. So does American Express.

5. So do 10 of the Fortune 20.

6. The exclusions themselves have references that are over 20 years old. What are the assumptions behind those exclusions? It's quite likely that whatever they were, they are no longer valid.

7. There has been a lot of medical advancement with regards to understanding the eschatology of Gender Identity Disorder and its treatment in the intervening 20 years, most of it in the last 10 years.

8. The assumption that gender identity disorder can be treated effectively using reparative therapy is now no longer honored among professionals who deal with transgender people, because of the underlying eschatology. In fact, the only treatment that does work, has been found to be transitional therapy, which necessitates in some cases, gender reassignment surgery.

9. The World Professional Association for Transgender Health, the American Medical Association, and the American Psychological Association have stated that gender reassignment, including surgery in some cases, is medically necessary treatment; and that failure to provide or cover such treatment can be considered discriminatory.

10. The US Tax Court agrees.

11. Select Health prides itself on being a discriminatory-free insurance company; but these exclusions are discriminatory against people who suffer from GID.

12. Select Health, however willingly or unwillingly, made my employer a participant in that discrimination by not providing an option whereby gender reassignment would be covered.

13. My employer, with over a 1000 employees, is currently interviewing insurance providers, to make sure that the insurance provider meets employee needs within corporate resource boundaries. I have started working with the company's human resources to let them know that these exclusions are in direct contradiction to their employment policy.

The committee also had in front of them the presentation I prepared for my prior presentation. They also had hundreds of pages to reference, including AMA Resolution 122, Tax Court vs O'Dhonobain, the WPATH standards of care as well as my documentation showing that I had followed WPATH SOC.

Monday, when I met with the three members of the trustee board, a lawyer, medical director, note taker and organizer, as well as one other person were present. One of the trustees served as facilitator and after reading my case and complimenting the presentation booklet I had prepared for the last meeting, proceeded to inform me that “it all ends here,” and that they change policy. I stated a summary of my case, and emphasized why the exclusions in their policy with regards to gender reassignment need to be dropped. In the end, I challenged them to determine the thinking behind the exclusions, treat those reasons as assumptions and to strike them from the policy if the assumptions cannot be validated.

During the meeting, the facilitator grilled me over choice, why I went to Thailand instead of having the procedure done in Colorado, why they showed no records of me pre-vetting the insurance policy ahead of time (I just did it anonymously), and if I knew I was taking a risk that the procedure would not be covered.

The trustee sitting to his left seemed to be more concerned with penny-pinching and whether coverage of the surgery had “market penetration.” In fact, his first words, before I knew what he was talking about were, “I’m wondering about the penetration.” I felt rather shocked by that particular statement until he clarified his intent later.

The remaining trustee’s frame of reference was on the public perception of Select Health. He seemed amenable and didn’t have any questions for me.

So, in summary, I feel that they are at least slightly worried about their public image; and yet, there is a hesitancy to take a risk to pay for the surgery without knowing that their competitors have already profited from the risk.

So, even though I came in trying to argue that coverage is the right thing to do, I had to digress to argue about cost. I even asked the penny-pincher, “What is the value of a human life?” I later referred to calculations by the AMA and myself that the total cost is negligible.

At this point, I give it a 50/50 chance of going either way.

Hugs and Blessings,

Sofia

Vagina Monologues Audition

2012-01-21T20:02:00.000-08:00

But I assert that every woman, in the present state of society, is bound to maintain her own independence and her own integrity of character; to assert herself earnestly and firmly as the equal of man, who is only her peer. This is her first right, her first duty, and if she lives in a country where the law supposes that she is to be subjected to her husband, and she consents to this subjection, I do insist that she consents to degradation; that this is sin, and it is impossible to make it other than sin. True, in this State, and in nearly all the states, the idea of marriage is that of subjection, in all respects, of the wife to the husband--personal subjection, subjection in the rights over their children and over their property; but this is a false relation.

-- Antoinette Brown Blackwell, Debating Marriage and Divorce Laws at the Tenth National Woman's Rights Convention in New York, 1860

Today, I auditioned for my third performance in Eve Ensler's Vagina Monologues. This morning, I accidentally slept in til 9:30 AM, awoke for a quick bath, printed off the audition pieces, and updated my entertainment resume. It took me awhile to find the head shot I wanted to use as well as format the resume to fit one page with the dance experience that I added. I finally got to the audition about two minutes before my slot at 11:10 AM, despite the rain, getting a little lost and parking halfway to the other end of the parking lot.

As I was filling out my resume, I overheard the director talking about someone who was a belly dancer and was pretty good, because she had seen me practicing. It had to have been me she was talking about, because it was my slot, she had seen me through the door, and she had indeed seen me practicing last year while we waited for the performance to start.

So when I walked in, I said, "Hi. Are you talking about me already?"

I couldn't make up my mind which monologue to read, so I was encouraged to read them all, and I did, all except for one that is. They looked at me and said, "That was awesome." Wow, two compliments in one day. So now I'm waiting for the casting to be completed and announced. Practice is supposed to begin this week.

Meanwhile, I continue to practice my routines for Azalea and my solo at Divine Love. For some reason it took about an hour and 20 tries to get the former right today, but the second, which I've been having difficulty learning, just flowed out very naturally. I'm 2 seconds over 2/3 of the way through the piece. On Monday, I pick up the remaining pieces of the choreography and take them home to study.

On Monday, I am also appearing in front of Select Health's Appeal Committee to try to explain in 30 minutes why they need to drop the exclusions for Gender Reassignment Surgery and cover my claim.

That's about it for now.

Hugs and Blessings,
Sofia

Nature vs. Nurture

2012-01-15T03:57:00.000-08:00

I am a female computer scientist and software engineer. I am also a poet and dancer, as well as tuned to empathy and support. I find meaning in artistic forms of expression and nurturing activities; yet I found that through persistence I was able to be good enough at math and science to excel in my studies and draw a really nice paycheck in computer programming.

Nature wired me with an inclination for nurturing and creativity, but I was nurtured in science and math, as a boy, because that's what I was assigned at birth. I struggled at first, but was able to eventually outperform anyone to whom I set my mind, especially in the field of logic. Meanwhile, I suppressed my natural proclivities.

I am a transsexual woman, who was born with a mild disorder of sexual development, invisible to the doctors and my parents.I played with all the toys I was given, but craved dance and nurturing toys. I learned spatial skills as well as military concepts because my father was in the Air Force. He had a vision that I would grow up to be a scientist or engineer, even though I preferred hanging around my mother.

Nurture won, but when I finally stopped suppressing my natural proclivities, I found I was able to develop them as well, in lightning speed over the last few years, and I know now I am the person I was meant to be.

In summary, while gender and a natural aptitude is programmed into us, shy of severe brain damage, the brain is plastic enough to mold skill in other areas. Men can learn to develop an artistic and empathetic sense, and women can develop a sense of reasoning.

What also comes into play is the theory of framesets. Many girls are told at an early age, when they achieve, that they are pretty and smart. Boys are told that they can achieve if they keep working at it. People internalize this. If they are told they are smart, they tend to believe that intelligence is something you are born with, and any failures they encounter may cause them them to doubt their own intelligence. On the other hand, people who are told they need to work harder to achieve, may come to believe that intelligence can be increased through dedication. This at least partly explains why so many female engineers are Asian.

In the end, Nature cannot be ignored, but Nurture can help to to round people out.

Hugs and Blessings,
Sopfia

Oz

2012-01-08T20:47:00.000-08:00

We kept Oz on the old sewing machine in the bedroom. Oz had no plugged hole on the bottom, and the slot on the top was too narrow to work bills out, even if you used a knife, so once you'd put money into Oz, it stayed there. We tested it to make sure. We couldn't count the money, but because Oz was translucent, we could see our cash accumulating inside when we held him up to the light.

-- Jeanette Walls

My Capital One debt is finally over. I sent the last payment two days ago. It took forever to pay it down, and it loomed over my head. I even inherited it as part of the divorce agreement. But finally it's gone. Meanwhile, my Discover and card is pretty close to full, so it's time to start paying it down; not as quickly as I'd like since I'm also making new car payments now--but the money I am saving on gas, since it's a hybrid will definitely help.

In addition to my daughter's flute payments, I am now also sending money for her private lessons. She's been first chair, and she has a dream. If her lessons will help her achieve that dream, I'll do what I can while I can.

My dream of dancing is about to hit the new year. I'm now taking three lessons a week. On Mondays, I'm about 20 seconds into a new choreography that I plan to solo as soon as I master it. I can only hope that I look half as awesome as my teacher as she does it. If I can get it done in time, I'm hoping to unveil it at the Divine Love show on February 11th. I'm also hoping to get Myst in the show as well.

Myst is a new troupe that grew out of a temporary troupe that was put to together for Night at the Casbah last year. It was done to spotlight the students of my intermediate dance class. New Beginnings got great reviews that night. Three of us went on to perform at the Halloween show. I did my solo and two of the others did a mini-troupe routine. Now three of us, who joined Azalea together, formed Myst so we can dance again at Dancing in the Snow on Saturday. We just had an awesome rehearsal on Saturday, and I picked up some hair pieces that go with my new costume so my hair doesn't get in my eyes. Deborah also volunteered to be our stage manager; I am excited about how this is coming together. You are going to have your socks knocked off when you see what we came up with.

Hugs and Blessings,
- Sofia Featherwind

Shifting Tides

2011-12-06T16:54:00.000-08:00

Now that Lori could see, she was the navigator. She got a city map from a gas station and plotted out our routes in advance. We pedaled past the Westward Ho Hotel, down Central Avenue where square-faced Indian women sold beaded necklaces and moccasins on rainbow-colored serapes they'd spread on the sidewalk. We pedaled to Woolworth's, which was bigger than all the stores in Battle Mountain put together, and played tag in the aisles until the manager chased us out. We got Grandma Smith's old wooden tennis rackets and pedaled off to Phoenix University, where we tried to play tennis with the dead balls other people had left behind.
Jeanette Walls, The Glass Castle

I have management books. I do. People give them to me all the time saying: “You should read this one. It changed my life!” These books are all about 150 pages.

Robert C. Martin

The object of this address, is to convince the public, that a reform, with respect to female education, is necessary; that it cannot be effected by individual exertion, but that it requires the aid of the legislature; and further, by shewing the justice, the policy, and the magnamity of such an undertaking, to persuade the body to endow a seminary for females, as the commencement of such reformation.

Emma Willard, “An Address to the Public, Proposing a Plan for Improving Female Education (1819)”

Barriers are falling, and it's about time. With the Federal Court ruling against discrimination of a transsexual woman with regards to employment, we are seeing the culmination of tide that has definitely shifted in the last 20 years. We are seeing a level of understanding that

Also, it has been a month since I appeared before a panel at SelectHealth to further my appeal to their denial to provide coverage for sexual reassignment surgery. They said then that they would give me a decision in writing in 5 business days. When those 5 days were up, they realized that they needed more time to investigate the information I had provided. Every day, I brace myself for the letter as I check my mailbox, and yet, still nothing. I can only imagine that they are deadlocked and unable to come to a decision. At least, I was not rejected outright. Meanwhile, my estrogen tests came back covered. It's a waiting game.

At work, I am having to overcome a leadership double-standard. As a woman, I am expected to be even-tempered at all times and to be able to influence people tactfully, versus the emotional expressivity usually expected of men. My team lead looked at my performance objectives and said I am "making progress" on my influence skills. I almost laughed. Obviously, he doesn't read QSaltLake or Salt Lake City Weekly. It's interesting to be recognized by people on the street because of those articles, yet the people I work with seem to be completely incognizant of the situation. It's nice.

So part of the strategy to "improve my communication" is to facilitate a reading group that includes leads and developers. The first book on the list? The Leader's Guide to Radical Management. Quite appropriate. I wasn't even on the email distribution list, and now I'm leading the group. We start the discussions in January. Oh the hoops we must jump through.

This weekend, I attended a wonderful 2 hour workshop on improvisational dance by The Lady Fred. She is such a wonderfully sweet person, and absolutely amazing and improvisational expression. She inspired me to return to allocate time for improvisational dance again, which I aim to fully use in piece that Myst is doing for Dancing in the Snow next month. Most of the dancers that attended the workshop are coming from the opposite direction from me: afraid of looking bad doing improvisational dance, they first focused on safety in troupes and choreographies. I, on the other hand, was much more afraid I didn't have it in me to learn a choreography or develop the associated technique; so I took refuge in dancing solo, improvisationally, knowing no one would know if I messed up. I found out earlier this year that, while it does take a lot of work, I can learn a choreography. Unfortunately, I became so bound in trying to overcome my weakness, that I eventually stopped taking enough moments to tap into pure improv. I'm glad I took the class. It will certainly help.

Hugs and God Bless,
Sofia

Transgender Day of Remembrance

2011-11-22T17:46:00.000-08:00

It was Transgender Day of Remembrance 3 years ago, 2008. I attended a candlelight vigil that night at a Metropolitan Community Church in Fort Worth, Texas—and it was the first time I attended a church service as Sophie. There were several of my transgender friends attending and I thought it would be a welcoming place to go.

I also had a friend at work who suggested that I try out the Unitarian Universalist church because of my spiritual experiences that did not line up completely with the spiritual doctrine I had grown up under. I had already outed myself to her and she was fast becoming a good friend. So, in early December, I checked out the local Unitarian Universalist Church, Westside. I went as male and confided to the person who greeted me that I was transgender. She told me about how they had a program for the kids to help them understand lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender issues. I decided that I would alternate between the two churches. I wasn't brave enough to show Sophie in public to people I hadn't met yet. I decided I would go female to the MCC and male to the UU.

A few weeks later, I dressed up as Sophie to attend the MCC and was on my way, when I felt an incredible spiritual pull to go to Westside Unitarian instead. I thought to myself, Oh great. I'm not ready. I followed the compulsion anyway and was greeted with warmth by the ladies of the church. You know, I never made it back to the MCC church, and I never told them about my former male experience. The Unitarian Church embraced me, kissed me on the cheek and gave me room and encouraged me to grow into the person I was meant to be.

Since Sunday was Transgender Day of Remembrance, I wrote a poem a couple of days previous to share with my congregation the feelings it engenders in me. It's called, “I Cried” and I also posted on the green project board I put together in the foyer before moving it the reception area.

I Cried

I cried.
When I read
How you died.
How your body was mutilated
Beyond recognition.

I cried
Because you died
For who you were

You had the courage
To Be
Free.

I cried
Because I lied
Because your fate
Might Be mine.

They identify your body
And I cry.

I don't feel safe
When I read
Almost daily
The same
Sad tale.

Because you might have been me,
I cry.

They can't find
Who took your life,
Or when they do,
Blame you
For being true
To yourself.

Tonight
I light a candle
To honor the spirit
The courage
The hope in the darkness
So I don't have to cry
Anymore

Sofia Jean Featherwind, November 18, 2011, For Transgender Day of Remembrance

Today, when I got home, I received a pleasant shock. In an envelope in my mailbox was a letter from my health insurance essentially approving coverage of the hormone therapy that was prior to my surgery in May and tagged as a complication. It's been more than a couple of weeks since I appeared before a grievance committee to present my argument of why they should cover my surgery. I'm taking this as a positive sign.

You need to make sure you carve out time for yourself. And if you're going to work crazy hours at something, make sure it's something you can feel compassionate about.

I'm done leap frogging jobs, because I found that I didn't have the passion to sustain the loyalty I kept throwing into companies just to have it betrayed when they needed money.

I leave between 4 and 5 pm every day and live my life outside of the office where I find my true meaning. Yeah, from 8:30 to roughly 4:30, I guide the team and run it when the lead is absent, handling all the tech issues, etc. But when I walk out that door, I breathe because I have dreams and aspirations to work on.

I have been performing. I lost count of the number of solos I did, and I did one with an ad hoc troupe. Three of us may be forming up to create a more permanent troupe named Desert Mist. I am so excited. Almost every day sees me practicing, unless I am taking a couple of days off for muscle recovery. I just got done with two back to back solos on the last two weekends. I did one choreography and a couple of drum improvisational dances for the church carnival and three choreographed pieces and another improv at an art gallery as part of the live entertainment for an after conference party.

I am signed up to perform at the January Winter Festival with Desert Mist, a couple of solos in February and in March, my performing class Azalea starts doing performances until September. So, I've been keeping myself busy.

The one thing I have learned is that things almost always go wrong. The best thing you can do is smile and keep on going, remembering that you are doing it for fun.

I've had a couple of articles posted in biweekly periodicals. One was about my battle with my insurance company and the other was a piece about me and my book.

My kids will be with me tomorrow through Sunday morning for Thanksgiving break. I'm planning on taking them shopping, to the movies and to Thanksgiving dinner at Golden Corral.

Wishing you a Happy Thanksgiving,
Sophie

Creativity out of Chaos

2011-11-06T18:14:00.000-08:00

The Censor is part of our leftover survival brain. It was the part in charge of deciding whether it was safe for us to leave the forest and go out into the meadow. Our Censor scans our creative meadow for any dangerous beasties. Any original thought can look pretty dangerous to our Censor.

The only sentences/paintings/sculptures/photographs it likes are the ones that it has seen many times before. Safe sentences. Safe paintings. Not exploratory blurts, squiggles, or jottings. Listen to your Censor and it will tell you that everything original is wrong/dangerous/rotten.

Who wouldn't be blocked if every time you tiptoed into the open somebody (your Censor) made fun of you? The morning pages will teach you to stop listening to that ridicule. They will allow you to detach from your negative Censor.

-- Julia Cameron, The Artist's Way

I totally miffed it last night. When the world goes to chaos, it's time to just go with the creative energy. "Indian Outlaw" didn't go as planned. I could barely hear the music and it was well on its way before I could get in position on the floor. The audience was fairly empty because everyone was in line to get food, and I started missing all my musical cues. Everything that could go wrong seemed to do so. All of my isolated mistakes from previous practice sessions seemed to all hit at once. I got confused at The Huntress and couldn't keep my balance in The Bow. I had to make up filler content on the spot to get back in sync. I just smiled and kept on going until I got backstage and beat myself up in my frustration.

But no one seemed to know about my mistakes. I was told, "I like your costume" and "That was a pretty dance." If I had done it right, I should have been feeding the energy to the audience and hearing "That was awesome."

I waited what seemed like forever for the clown I was to follow with my Shakira number. There were a lot of lulls between acts. The sound that seemed to be working was that coming from the live singers. Even the guitarist could barely be heard. And as much as I scanned the crowd, I could find no clown.

I danced by the silent auction table to the singers on stage, reminding myself very sternly that I do this for fun. It served as the warmup I needed, the one I missed just trying to get to the church in time to do an equipment check before the auction began.

Then the drumming circle took the floor, but only right after I was asked if I wanted to go ahead and perform my next piece. I knew their improvisational rhythms were great--so I asked if I could dance with them. They indicated the space Deborah had cleared out earlier for my dance in front of the drums and I stood just outside the last drum on stage left until I could mimic the first beats with my body. I made my body a visual drum, trying to anticipate the next beat, shimmying, bumping and turning to the audience, dancing to them. I picked out groups of faces in the well lit audience and smiled my ecstatic pleasure at them as I let the energy course through my muscles.

When I had started, the audience was half-packed. When the song was over, it was standing room only. Women in the back were dancing along, someone was clapping out the beat, ululations were very clear, and after a very long grueling of channeling the creative energy, the last beat was struck.

I figured I just barely had time to rest before my next routine if I bowed out immediately. I also thought that I had borrowed enough of the spotlight from the drumming troupe. As I stepped away from the floor into the audience, someone yelled, "Encore!," and it was clear the audience would not allow me to stray without another round. Not sure if I could repeat, I released myself to the gathering beat.

My improvisational ecstatic dance was light-years ahead of my choreographed routine. The frenzy was awesome, but I was starting to feel the sweat, loss of breath, and aching muscles threatening to overwhelm me. It was clear I was done for the evening.

Belly dancing takes a tremendous amount of energy. This was the first time I had ever performed more than one routine in public, and I did three! Not the two I expected, but still...This time I was approached by so many more people and started hearing my favorite phrases: "That was awesome!," "I know how difficult that is," and "How long have you been doing this?"

And there's the rub, the reason I shouldn't be beating myself up. It's been only four months since I started taking serious lessons. In that time, I've lost track of the number of performances I've done, as well as being admitted to a dancing troupe, and encouraged to keep performing! What has seemed like forever to me has in reality been a very short time. I just had major surgery almost 6 months ago!

Of course, I think I've hit my maximum amateur audience size. I can't think of any events I could appear at that would host more that 200 people, except maybe the pride festival next June. Joni has already reserved the space and is expecting me to dance. I will definitely want to dance with a live band playing.

Next weekend, I am performing at the Gender Conference After Party. I've got my workout practice cut out for me. I can't wait to share all this with my private instructor tomorrow. Wait until I tell her someone videotaped my performance and is emailing me a copy.

Hugs and God Bless,
Sofia Featherwind

Fama

2011-10-16T20:47:00.000-07:00

Fama, that much-coveted goddess, has many faces, and fame comes in many sorts and sizes—from the one-week notoriety of the cover story to the splendor of an everlasting name.

Walter Benjamin

I have been contemplating when my story would finally come out--when someone in the press would take note of some aspect of my life and decide to do a piece on me, exposing me in such a way that I would be thrust into the advocate spotlight, sacrificing some of the stealth I enjoy.

I admit that I don't always pass as well as I like, but for the most part, people are wonderful and let me enjoy the fantasy of doing so. They are my friends and I love them all.

I thought the exposure would come through my dance. In fact, I took the stage in front of 178 people to do my solo last night, very aware that it has only been 9 months since I started taking lessons.

I practiced my heart out for the last couple of weeks, trying to figure out what I was going to do with Indian Outlaw by Tim McGraw. It was a song I wanted to do because I normally see Halloween as a time to honor my Tsalagi (Cherokee) roots.

I was making good progress. I quickly figured out the chorus routine in a matter of minutes and then I threw in The Huntress and The Bow from my private instructor. I finally filled the intervening space for the refrain with The Grapewine--a modified Grapevine. Then for the close, I did a spin and drop with undulating death throes, before returning to life to blow a kiss.

I spent an hour each day I could going over it. Then I got my flu shot last Friday. I wound up too nauseous to do anything on Tuesday except watch myself fall behind in my performance class and I had lost my balance until Thursday. Friday was a very light practice day, so I was a bit nervous by the time Saturday rolled around.

I needn't have worried. When I finally got up to perform, I just had to smile while they looked for my music, throwing a couple of shimmies with my back to the audience. I thought my routine was going to be so boring compared to what everyone else had done so far. Gorgeous Wendy had loaned me her foot-long feather earrings that tickled my chest, and suddenly the music started.

I was feeling it--the deep spiritual connection I get when I share a piece of performance art. Everything felt great and I was surprised at how wonderful the audience was, clapping the beat, whistling and hooting through the two advanced moves I had thrown in, the deathly pawl as I struggled against death, and the cheers when I rose from the dead and blew kisses to the audience, all in tune to the beat.

It was wonderful seeing kisses blown back.

During intermission, as I sought out my friends and teachers I got wonderful compliments on my performance. I was approached by someone else who had Cherokee roots and loved the song as well as my interpretation.

I was really surprised at the support. Looking back at the photos I am really astounded by the amount of energy that I brought to what I thought was going to be an over-simplified routine.

There were a number of great dancers last night. I am proud that so many of them are now my friends. Thia's annual Halloween Show is wonderful and I am so happy that she let a newbie like myself solo. She is so sweet that she invented "Best Indian" as well as other prizes to make everyone feel like a winner. I'm fortunate to have her as a teacher.

My next performance is going to be at the South Valley Carnival and Auction on November 5. I'll be doing at least two routines. I don't know if the audience will be larger that 178, but if it is, I'm ready for it. I am going to try to learn one more routine by then, so I'll have three to perform that Saturday.

Today, I had a Welcome to Womanhood moment--a urinary tract infection. Trust me, they suck. I treated myself with cranberry juice and rest.

Tomorrow, it's back to work at my day job and my private lesson afterward. Then I'm meeting a photographer for a Weekly publication. It seems that my struggle with the insurance company over my appeal left me in such a state last week that it attracted media attention.

Friday, I met with a reporter for my interview at a Thai restaurant and he is anxious to write something up and publish it. He also suggested a photographer come over to get my photo for the piece when I suggested just providing a photo. And so I shall be thrust into the limelight for simply standing up for what I know is right--for myself, and for others.

I have tried so hard to live stealth and not draw undue attention to my status, but somehow I am drawn to speak for--to advocate--my story so that others may be similarly understood.

Is it bravery or courage? No. It's simple expediency. It's need. If my appeal for surgical coverage would have been handled independently of my other medical routines instead of as an excuse to deny me coverage, I wouldn't need this exposure.

But when people do things that depress me, I only can find two actions available to my mind: I can either mire myself in the mud of despair (and trust me, it's very tempting) or I can fight back. I have no choice.

I knew this time was coming; I just didn't expect it would be here so soon.

Hugs and God Bless,
Sophie